


Girl Time

by mdr_24601



Series: you're not alone at the table anymore [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, No Incest, Pre-Canon, Sharing Clothes, no beta we die like ben, young hargreeves siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: Four tried on one of the skirts, and grinned. It made him feel pretty, and it was leagues more flattering than the uniform shorts or pants were. He caught sight of himself in Three’s mirror and did a little twirl.“It looks good on you,” Three commented, nodding in approval.Or:When Klaus feels better in the uniform skirts than the pants, he's glad he has two sisters.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: you're not alone at the table anymore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958572
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	Girl Time

Four’s light footsteps were quiet as he shuffled down the hallway, but it was enough to alert Three to his presence. She glanced at him through her open door to her room, where Seven sat on the floor, shoulders curled in, looking uneasy. Three made brief eye contact with him before asking, “What do you want, Four?”

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping into the room to see the skirts that littered the floor. Seven sent him a little smile. 

“Nothing,” Three responded impatiently. Free time was valuable and he could tell Three was getting annoyed at him wasting hers. “It’s a girl thing. Go away, we only have nineteen minutes left!” 

“How is it a girl thing?” he whined. They were eight years old; the days of avoiding the opposite gender should have been long behind them. Everybody knew cooties didn’t exist, so what was the problem?

“It just is. Go play with Two or Six or something. Seven and I are trying to play.”

He wanted to point out that it looked more like Three was trying to play while Seven sat there, but all he said was, “Fine.”

All he heard as he left the room with a huff was Three asking Seven, “So, which skirt do you think you’d look good in?”

His footsteps paused. That’s what they were doing? Trying on skirts? Well, that wasn’t a girl thing at all, that was just a person thing. According to him, anyway. Maybe Three didn’t see it that way, but Four was certain he’d make a better player at dress-up than Seven. 

Still, free time was already halfway over, and that wasn’t enough time to start a new game. He thought about bothering Six in the library, but that sounded far from exciting, so he refrained. 

Nothing sounded exciting after watching Three’s game. Not even any game he played with Two outside, or any conversations he could have with Six. Eventually, Four settled on playing alone in his room as he waited for the clock of free time to tick down. Thirty minutes wasn’t a long time, far from it, especially when that time was used to play games. He couldn’t understand why Three would use her free time to play with Seven, who was usually only good for talking at, not talking to. 

Then again, Three often preferred talking to listening, so maybe playing with Seven was a good choice after all. 

“Hey.” A quiet knock on his door started him and he turned to see Three loitering in his doorway. “Did you..want to play with us earlier?”

“No,” Four replied, nonchalant. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I just wanted to know what you were doing. I don’t want to play a girl game.” He wasn’t sure why he was hiding it from Three. Maybe she’d think him weird if she found out. 

Three frowned. “Oh. Okay. Because Seven is horrible at dress-up, but if you wanted to play…”

“We only have five minutes left,” Four said, perking up. “But maybe next week, we could try?”

Her expression brightened. “Really? Oh, good, I don’t think I can stand playing with Seven anymore. She just sits there, you know, and doesn’t even try to have fun! But this is good, it will be fun with you.”

“I thought you said it was a girl game, though,” he said. Three shrugged, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. 

“Well, Seven’s the only other girl in the house, but she doesn’t even act like one. If you want to act like one, then you can play.”

“But not the others,” Four said. “One, Two, Five, and Six can’t play.”

“No,” Three agreed, smiling softly. “It’s just our game.”

* * *

Four had never counted down the days until the next free time before, but with the idea of his and Three’s new game planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop. Time stretched slowly like taffy throughout the week, and he wondered if next Saturday would ever come. 

Free time was right after lunch, so they bolted up from the table when their father announced, “Dismissed.”

Three opened the door to her room, let Four in, then closed it. She sat down on her bed to catch her breath; they had been running fast. 

“Should we let Seven know that we don’t want to play with her anymore?” Four asked. 

Three shook her head and waved dismissively. “No, she’ll figure it out. Besides, that will waste time. Here, let’s try this.” She spent some time rummaging through the drawers of her dresser, picking up a few skirts. 

Four tried on one of the skirts, and grinned. It made him feel pretty, and it was leagues more flattering than the uniform shorts or pants were. He caught sight of himself in Three’s mirror and did a little twirl. 

“It looks good on you,” Three commented, nodding in approval. “But I don’t know what else to do now. We only have our uniforms, and I don’t really want to try on your shorts.”

“It’s okay,” Four said, taking off his blazer. “Our uniforms have separate parts, see? We can mix and match the parts to play dress-up.”

Her eyes brightened, and hope was restored. “You’re right!”

They spent the next twenty minutes trying on different pieces of uniform clothing, with the skirts. Four had a good time, even though he wished that they had more to choose from. “I wish we could go shopping.”

Three frowned, forlorn. “Dad would never let us. Maybe when we’re older, though. We could pick out so many skirts.”

“And dresses,” Four added.

“And necklaces, and bracelets, and earrings, and anything else we wanted.”

“Like the people in the magazines,” he pointed out. She gasped. 

“Yes, exactly like that! When I grow up, I want to be one of the people in the magazines, and show off all my pretty clothes,” she announced. 

Four laughed. “How will you do that?”

“I’ll have to be famous, obviously. Then I can go on red carpets and stuff.”

“People do dress up there,” he mused, imagining the glittery gowns he’d seen in the magazines. “I want to do that, too,” he decided. 

“Okay,” Three agreed easily. “We’ll wear dresses and be in magazines together.”

“And be famous,” Four added. She nodded, serious. 

“And be famous.”

* * *

Their childish dream, although it had slipped his mind over the years, did eventually come true. They were twelve, newly named ( _Klaus_ ; his name rolled off his tongue easily), and going on missions. He couldn’t wear a dress, because he wasn’t allowed, but the Umbrella Academy was proudly displayed on the front page of a magazine. 

“Allison!” he called. Three’s name fit her well, too; pretty and dainty and feminine. She opened her door and walked over to him, styled curls bouncing at her shoulders. “Have you seen this?” he asked. 

She peered over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Wow, look at us! I want to hang this in my room. Oh, I forgot how gorgeous that dress was!”

They had been given specially ordered clothes for the photo shoot, and among these was a pretty dress for Allison. Klaus and the rest of the boys were dressed in suits, as per their father’s request, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. 

It’s not that Klaus disliked wearing suits. When they weren’t stuffy and didn’t remind him of a snobby old university professor, they could be tolerable. But he wanted to wear a suit because he felt like it, not because he was forced to wear one. 

“You look good, too,” Allison assured him, noticing his expression. 

“I always look good,” he retorted with a shaky smile. “I just don’t look pretty.”

“Well, that’s okay,” she said, dismissing the magazine cover entirely, which he could imagine was quite hard for her to do. “That doesn’t matter. We still have twenty minutes of free time left, so you can look pretty now.” She turned to the various products scattered across her vanity. 

Over the years, their father had granted the girls permission to venture into another world of self expression: makeup.

Allison had been delighted, of course, but Vanya wasn’t interested. After Mom had presented them with their own makeup kits and taught them how to apply it, Vanya had pressed hers into his hands with a quiet declaration of, “You can have mine.”

He was far more interested in what the makeup had to offer than Vanya was, and he and Allison had spent many free times trying out different looks and styles. 

“There,” Allison announced as she finished doing his makeup for him. It was a ritual the two of them shared; when the other was upset, they would spend free time giving them a makeover. This was only difficult in the fact that if something bad happened on, say, Monday, they had to wait until Saturday to do anything about it. By then, they could have forgotten entirely about what had made them upset. 

Regardless, though, makeovers were fun whether you needed cheering up or not, and Klaus appreciated them nonetheless. “Thanks, Allie,” he said with a smile, examining his face in the mirror. His sister had a gift with makeup; she could make anyone look pretty. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Allison said with a smile. “Because I brought something else.”

She dug under her bed and pulled out a pair of pink high heels. “Are those Mom’s?” Klaus asked, running his fingers lightly over the material in awe. 

“Yeah, I could only take one pair. You know, so she wouldn’t notice. But we can try them on and walk down the hallway in them,” she offered. 

Klaus grinned, knowing where she was going with the idea. “And pretend we’re in a fashion show?”

“Obviously,” Allison agreed. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time.”

After some stumbling around, they eventually got the hang of wearing the heels. Allison was better than Klaus was, but neither of them minded. Personally, with the skirt paired with the heels, Klaus felt prettier than ever, magazine photo forgotten. 

* * *

He was fourteen when Vanya came to him. She approached his door so quietly that he didn’t even notice she was there. She tugged on the ends of her hair nervously, not saying anything. 

Klaus glanced up. She hadn’t come during one of their weekly allotted free times. Instead, she came in the late evening, the space of time used for ‘independent study’ between dinner and curfew. “Hey, Vanya,” he said distractedly. 

Vanya still hovered in the doorway. “Hi. Uh, I was wondering, well, I know you like wearing skirts and I don’t, so...maybe you could trade me a pair of your pants for one of my skirts?”

His eyebrows rose. That wasn’t an offer he’d expected Vanya to make. It seemed rather bold of her, but in a way, he was proud. “You don’t like the uniform, huh? Well, I know how that feels. Come in here, pick out a pair of pants. Take some shorts, too. I always did hate those dreadful things.” He threw himself on his bed dramatically, and Vanya giggled a little at his theatrics. 

“Thanks,” she said softly, a folded pair of pants in her arms. “I’ll be right back.” True to her word, she appeared in the doorway minutes later, clothes folded in her arms. “I brought one of the dresses, too. Just in case you wanted one. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

He stood up from his bed and examined the clothes. She had picked out a skirt that was similar to Allison’s, as well as the uniform dress, another variant of the girl’s uniforms. “This is perfect, Vanny, you’re a lifesaver. Allie always gets mad when I steal her clothes.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at the praise. “Thanks, uh, for the pants and everything.”

She left without another word, and Klaus was left to stare at the folded fabric in his arms. Their uniforms, even the girls’ ones, were not flattering by any means. Their father’s archaic taste combined with his obsession with formality made the uniforms rather ugly, but the dress and skirt were better than the pants, so he took them. 

The next free time, he showed his new skirt and dress off to Allison, who huffed irritably. “I thought I told you not to steal my clothes anymore,” she said. “You have to ask first.”

“They’re not yours.”

“Then whose are they?”

“They’re mine,” he said simply. Allison rolled her eyes. “Well, they were Vanya’s first. She traded them for a pair of pants.”

“What does Vanya want pants for?”

“To wear, probably,” Klaus said. “She doesn’t like the uniform, either.”

“Can any of us really say we _like_ the uniform?” Allison asked with a small laugh. “I mean, Dad did pick them out.”

“So we may as well make them more bearable, right?” He spun around in Vanya’s skirt, enjoying the way it fanned out around his legs. “What do you think? Should I wear this downstairs?”

“I think Dad would have an aneurysm.”

Klaus shrugged, sat on the bed, and propped his feet up on Allison’s desk chair. “Well, I’d pay to see that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just some young Klaus, Allison, and Vanya fluff to brighten your day. Hope you liked this one. <3


End file.
